


I Want to Hold Your Hand

by ZeroLemons



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Before the bad happens, First Date, Fluff, M/M, No mention of anything after their cute movie date, i promise im not out to hurt you, kiss, s3e6, they drink beer, this is all good, this is the night before shit goes down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroLemons/pseuds/ZeroLemons
Summary: Mickey felt a little like he was drowning. He could steal, shoot a man, intimidate anyone, and yet he was stuck staring at the back of Ian’s head and thinking about how much he wanted to kiss him. More than anything, he wanted to hold his hand.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	I Want to Hold Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This fic occurs during the dreaded Season 3 Episode 6. I promise, there is no mention of the bad parts to that episode, you know what I am talking about.  
> This story revolves solely around their first date (I personally count their baseball field outing as a date, but I doubt Mickey would), and as such, there is no mention of anything to come after that evening.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Mickey slumped back on the lumpy couch, watching “Under Siege”. At least, he was attempting to. He kept getting distracted, catching himself sneaking glances at the redhead beside him. Ian was laughing at something in the movie, probably someone being shot, but Mickey had no clue what was going on. All he knew was that when Ian laughed, his leg shifted and brushed against Mickey’s. Mickey froze slightly, brought his beer up to his lips and tried to convince his body to calm the fuck down. Mickey just had to inhale and exhale – get his breath on track and the rest would follow, right? That or he would take a break and grab a fucking smoke.

Ian threw an arm behind Mickey with ease, taking a moment to lightly pet at the hair above Mickey’s neck before Mickey shrugged him off, feigning annoyance.

Mickey always liked Ian’s hands – how steady they were. The other hand was playing with the top of his empty beer bottle. Mickey looked down at his own hands, they were rough, scarred, and tattooed. Nothing like Ian’s. Mickey wiped his hand on his pants, trying to remove some of the condensation from his beer and sweat from his nerves.

He really didn’t want to make tonight out to be a big deal, but his body seemed to have other ideas.

Something big and bright occurred on the tv screen. Ian turned to Mickey with a smile, like one would if they were sharing an inside joke. If only Mickey knew what it was about. Instead, Mickey was left nodding slightly in response.

Mickey downed the last of his beer, just so he would have something to do. Maybe so he could be a bit tipsier, a bit faster. He sat up straighter and turned to Ian who threw him an easy smile and raised eyebrow in confusion.

“I’m just gonna go get another fucken beer. Want one?” Mickey stumbled out, standing up and reaching for Ian’s empty bottle.

Ian handed it over, “Sure.”

Mickey marched into the kitchen and grabbed two new bottles. Taking a minute to steady himself, Mickey stared at the back of Ian’s head, finally having an opportunity to unapologetically look. He liked the dumb blue shirt Ian was wearing, particularly appreciating the way it clung to his shoulders. He liked the way Ian’s hair was cut, even if it acted as a reminder that Ian intended to go to the army and leave Mickey behind – but that was a worry for another day.

They had a lot of worries for other days – Mickey’s family, Ian’s living situation, what Mickey would do with his future – but none of it could enter this space tonight. No, tonight was theirs alone.

It crossed his mind briefly that this was a date, in fact, he had categorised the evening as their ‘First Date’ – a title he believed Ian would be very much okay with. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little like he was drowning. They had food, a movie, a house to themselves. It was all perfect, really. But Mickey didn’t know what to do with that. He had always just fucked and walked out. It was harder to do that with Ian, especially when they were in Mickey’s house. A place that previously only held quick fucks or hand jobs with Ian before Mandy or god forbid anyone else could walk in. Now, Mickey had to deal with feelings too.

Recently, Mickey acknowledged that he was stuck on Ian. Well, he less acknowledged it, and more had it hit him in the throat and knock him to the floor. In the past, he had always played it cool with Ian, pretending it was just a convenient fuck. They both knew otherwise when jealousy reared its ugly head while he saw Ian with that geriatric aristocrat.

It wasn’t long ago that Mickey had kissed Ian for the first time, yet it was all that he thought about. He kept finding himself lost on Ian’s lips, sneaking glances whenever possible. Theoretically, there's no reason that they couldn’t be kissing right now. They’ve both seen the film before, it’s not as though they would miss anything. Plus, no one else was home.

“ _He isn’t afraid to kiss me._ ” That one short fucking sentence had plagued Mickey for weeks. Before Mickey had the bravery to kiss him, they were at a stalemate – Ian wanted more but never pushed, Mickey wanted more but always retreated. Anything more had always seemed like such an impossibility. Something meant for people who fucking deserved love. For people who had it easy. Those who could just blurt out what they fucking felt all the damn time.

Mickey wondered what shit normal couples got to do, other than kissing. Hell, he didn’t even know if he and Ian were a couple, that line had become blurry.

He imagined that normal people would hold hands, kiss whenever, spend the night, go out to movies or a fucking park date. Sure, they probably had to deal with family dinners, but at least they had families and food on the table. Mickey didn’t think that he and Ian could ever be that couple.

Leaning against the fridge, Mickey considered going back to the couch and kissing Ian. They hadn’t done it much before, just recent fleeting pecks in private moments. As much as they had yet to have some huge make-out session, Mickey really enjoyed being able to kiss Ian. He imagined that any kiss tonight would escalate quickly – most things between them did. He envisioned them forgetting about the movie to focus on lips and heat and friction.

They had experienced a lot of firsts recently. Mickey never intended for them to happen, in fact, he barely knew he desired them until they had come to pass. Their first kiss, now their first date, first sleepover. When it came to Ian, Mickey found himself putting up wall after wall, only for Ian to break them down without a second thought.

“You getting your ass over here? Wouldn’t want you to miss out on some quality ponytail content.” Ian teased from the couch, “or are you too bored and admit that Seagal is less interesting than Van Damme?”

Mickey shook his head to clear it before making his way over to Ian, beers in hand. “Fuck you. Seagal could kick Van Damme’s ass any day, and you know it.”

Ian grabbed his drink and nudged Mickey with his shoulder once Mickey settled back down beside him. “You just have a thing for the ponytail, don’t you? It’s a shame my hair is so short. If only I knew that’s what got you going.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh before putting his beer down on the coffee table. “You? With a red ponytail? Bitch, where’s the bleach? I need to burn that image from my brain.”

Mickey reached out, roughly messing up Ian’s hair as much as possible considering how short the hair was. Ian laughed and made to shake Mickey’s hand off, if only for the pretence. They’d never had this before, the comfortable and open touches, and it made Mickey pause.

Mickey exhaled unsteadily and let his hand fall to Ian’s cheek. His thumb grazed across Ian’s cheekbone while they made eye contact, just for a moment. Before he could overthink it, he drew Ian close and connected their lips.

Ian was still for just a moment before he reciprocated the kiss, his hands grabbing at Mickey’s shirt. It was mainly long presses of lips, both of them taking the time to explore the other’s mouth. It was nothing like Mickey had expected. It wasn’t hot and heavy, it was slow and soft and sweet. Once again, something he never knew he needed, never thought to ask for.

Eventually, Ian pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against Mickey’s with a small smile, as if to himself. Mickey wondered if he looked as flushed as he felt, if Ian could see the blush on his cheeks or feel the shallowness of his breath.

As it always goes, Mickey was one second away from grabbing at Ian and changing the mood. He was always most comfortable with Ian when there were dicks involved – it’s easier to pretend not to care when all you do is fuck.

Instead, Ian slumped back against the couch and drew Mickey into his side, curling them up together to watch the movie. Mickey no longer knew where Ian began and he ended. He wondered if he ever knew. Maybe he was meant to have eight limbs all along, and Ian’s were the missing set.

He didn’t doubt that later they would get to the fucking, finally being free to do so on a bed. He privately hoped they would fall asleep intertwined – he never wanted to learn where the edges were between him and Ian, where they separated. In fact, Mickey was growing rather attached to them as a unit.

They sat together watching the movie for a while, matching each other breath for breath, before Ian reached over and intertwined his hand with Mickey’s. Anxiety gripped at Mickey’s heart – his hand was clammy and cold and scarred and this wasn’t at all where he thought the night would go.

Ian caught Mickey’s eye and offered him a gentle smile, his eyes bright. Ian leaned down and pressed a quick peck to his lips. Before he could over think it, Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand softly, just once.

Settling back into the couch, Mickey exhaled. He knew that this little bubble he had created for them wouldn’t last forever. At least for now, he had beer, soft kisses, safety, and someone to hold his hand.


End file.
